


What Has Gone Unsaid

by NightFoliage



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Emotions, Gen, Incest, Kissing, M/M, Romance, Twincest, a lot of emotions, canonverse, references everywhere, written before the finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 13:30:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6008067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightFoliage/pseuds/NightFoliage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ford has never labelled what he and his brother have; it’s more than their friendship, their brotherhood, and their love. Words are inadequate. </p><p>Which would be a nice thought if Ford cared to say any of that out loud.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Has Gone Unsaid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cellard00rs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cellard00rs/gifts).



> Thanks so much to my wonderful beta [Sincave](http://stancestsincave.tumblr.com) who edited this in one day so that I could get it out in time for the Gravity Falls finale. I thought this was going to be a short oneshot, but it turned into a sprawling behemoth and Sincave still got it done for me, for which I am eternally grateful :)
> 
> Based on this [post](http://cellard00rs.tumblr.com/post/132914687060/jaredbottoms-he-kissed-you-and-you-said) on tumblr.

Stanford is telling himself that it doesn’t matter, that he’s better than this, that an event of this caliber shouldn’t bother him, but it does. He’s in the bathroom trying to clean the fruit punch off his suit, but he’s afraid it’s going to stain. But of course he knows it’s going to stain, and-

He stares at his reflection. The punch is starting to seep into his undershirt and it’s starting to dry on his glasses. 

Ford needs to take care of that first. It’s the only pair he has and he can’t ask his dad for another pair. Ford slides the glasses off his face. Reflection now blurry, Ford doesn’t have to see the full extent of his failure. However, even without his glasses, there is no mistaking the bright red against the powder blue of his outfit. 

His eyes start to water and he blames the sugar in the punch. It must have gotten into his eyes.

Ford quickly wipes away the edges of his eyes and cleans his glasses so he can put them back on. It’s painful, getting rejected. While not unusual for him, having it constantly happen is taking it’s toll. 

Unfortunately, by putting his glasses on Ford had a clear view of his hands. His six-fingered, unusual hands. He can’t help but stare and wonder-

“Piss off.”

Ford jumps. He whips his head to the door of the boy’s bathroom, but no, the door is closed. There’s no one else in the bathroom nor is there anyone coming into the bathroom. His brother is making sure of that. 

Time to face the music, he thinks and tries to make himself as presentable as possible. “It's fine, Stan,” he calls out. 

Ford can picture his brother hesitating outside the door, twitching, wanting to come in and comfort him, but not knowing if he should. The thought reassures him more than if Stan actually came in. Some comfort would be nice, though. “You can come in if you want,” Ford continues. 

The door creaks and Stan slips into the bathroom, looking apprehensive. 

Even though he’s wearing a pink suit, the punch has done much more damage. Unlike Ford, Stan hasn’t had the chance to clean up yet. All the punch has dried and Stan has made none of the effort of wiping away the punch on his face, only the part around his eyes. The rest is starting to stain his skin and the top part of the suit. 

The sight makes Ford smile. “Come here so I can wipe the punch of you, you goof,” he says, beckoning to his brother. 

Stan answers with his own smile and playful grumbling, but allows his twin to wipe away some of the dried punch off his skin. 

The bathroom is quiet, the sound of the water and the sound of paper against skin unnaturally loud in the silent bathroom even though some of the music from the dance can be heard in the bathroom. 

Stan is still and patient under Ford’s careful care. They don’t even speak and the simple act relaxes and reassures Ford more than he would care to admit. Stan seems to understand this and continues to stay still despite how much it goes against his character. He continues to stay vigilant even though Ford has obviously finished. 

Ford brushes nonexistent lint off of Stan’s shoulders before finally declaring, “Done.”

Stan relaxes and finally shoots him a worried look. 

Ford turns away fiddling with the sink and washing his hands before he can potentially see pity in his brother’s eyes. 

“You okay?” Stan asks.

“I’m fine.” Ford replies.

They fall back into silence and the only sounds now are the distorted, and muffled songs from the gym. Ford leans heavily on the sink. Stan moves to touch him, but thinks better of it.

Ford takes a moment to pull himself together and admits, “I just wish I had the chance to dance. That’s all.” 

And it’s true. Dances are- they’re normal. Although Ford isn’t normal, doesn’t think being normal is all it’s chalked up to be, he can’t help but want these small moments for himself. Every once in awhile, he wouldn’t mind being able to experience ‘normal.’

A warm hand is lands on his shoulder. Ford looks up, seeing Stan’s concerned reflection in the mirror. His twin gives him a bashful smile, but he doesn’t say anything. 

Ford smiles back.

Well, maybe normal is overrated, he reminds himself. Normal wouldn’t have gotten him such a good brother. He puts his hand on top of Stan’s and squeezes. 

After a moment, they let go and Ford prepares himself to be interrogated. He’s not disappointed. Stan leans against the other sink and crosses his arms over his chest. 

“So. What happened?” 

The tone Stan uses brokers no arguments, so Ford mulls over the right words. 

“Nothing happened,” Ford says honestly. “Coming here- it wasn’t because Ashley rejected me. That was the catalyst, sure, but it wasn’t because of _Ashley_. I was.. I was trying to make a connection.”

Stan doesn’t reply and Ford takes that as a signal to continue on. 

“And that connection, it wasn’t even there before I tried. And it’s hard, because it’s starting to become a pattern, connection after connection, lost before I can even make them.”

Ford swallows hard. 

_I want more_ is what he doesn’t say aloud. How can he admit that he wants more than what Stan offers him, when Stan already gives him so much? He can’t say it. 

Stan stays quiet, which is exceedingly rare for him. By now, his twin would be loud, using bold and brash words to make Ford forget his troubles. But Stan is quiet and Ford casts his eyes down from the mirror. However, a gentle hand catches his chin. Ford turns and all he can do is watch as Stan slowly leans towards him. He closes his eyes on instinct. 

The kiss is soft, a little dry, and sticky sweet from the punch, and not at all what Ford is expecting.

A moment later, Stan pulls away and Ford’s eyes flutter open. His twin is looks serious, but his eyes are soft and full of love. Stan says to him, “Then I’ll have to be enough for you.”

“Thank you,” Ford breathes in response, then flushes. What a terrible response to such a heartfelt declaration. But Ford can’t bring himself to say more without his heart bursting. 

Stan just smiles, bright and wonderfully warm that makes Ford hesitantly smiles back. 

They leave after that, Stan driving them around aimlessly, one hand on the wheel, the other encased in Ford’s six-fingered hands. 

-000-

The kissing is new, but surprisingly not disruptive to the twins’ lives. 

In the mornings or the evenings, essentially whenever Stan can get away with it, Stan steals a kiss. Just a quick, warm press of their lips. Then Stan slides away with a big shit eating grin, returning to whatever the hell he was doing, leaving Ford flustered and warm. 

_Thank you_ , Ford will say to Stan after each kiss. There’s nothing else that Ford can offer, even though each thank you, really means, _you’re amazing_ , or _I don’t know what I’d do without you_ , or _never leave me_. 

But that’s admitting too much.

Instead all he can do is softly say thank you to Stan after every kiss.

He’ll whisper it right after the moment Stan pulls away, as if pulling the words from his mouth. The words fill the silence that is them ignoring the world around them. He’ll say it with a laugh after Stan gives him a kiss from the most awkward position, stealing them when Ford is unprepared and making him smile. 

Ford says _thank you_ each and every time when he really wants to say, _I love you_. 

He never does. 

In some ways, Ford regrets never saying these words to Stan. He considers it, when they share an unusually passionate kiss at the beach. They’ve finished talking about the future about him going to the west coast for college. That day Stan brings him in close, pulls his body flush against his, and kissing him so deeply that he can feel Stan invading his every sense

After the kiss, Ford is speechless. In the moment that Ford is brain dead, Stan glances around (right, they were at the beach, empty, but still out in the open), before pulling Ford into a hug. Ford manages to relax into it, while Stan buries his nose into his neck. 

“Thank you,” Ford breaths into Stan’s hair. 

“I love you,” Stan says back. 

Ford swallows and says nothing back. Luckily, Stan doesn’t seem to mind. 

The next day, Ford lets Stan leave his life without so much as a goodbye. 

-000-

It’s both easier and harder to live without Stan. 

Suddenly Ford doesn’t have his right hand man, the person who always cheered him up. Even if he didn’t understand Ford, he always stood by his side. 

But in other ways, he’s free. 

It’s not too long before he goes BackUpsMore and there he’s known as Stanford Pines, not ‘one of the Pines twins,’ or the ‘twin with the freaky hands.’ His colleagues are accepting of his oddities and neither is he part of a pair. Between the atmosphere and the workload he has, Ford manages to forget about Stan and the ‘thank yous.’

The years pass by rather unnoticeably while he fills himself with knowledge. In fact, nothing is more important than satisfying his thirst for knowledge. Making friends and connections isn't’ as important. He lets visiting his family fall to the wayside. And he lets himself get absorbed by his pursuit. 

(And if on occasion he starts becoming lonely, if for some reason something or other will remind him of what he used to have, then he can throw himself into his work and forget.)

Everything was going perfectly; graduating early with honors, the grant money, and being able to follow his dreams and study anomalies in Gravity Falls. 

Gravity Falls is everything Ford’s dreamed about. And maybe he hits a snag with his research, but that just leads him to Bill, which in turn leads him to Fiddleford. Building the portal with his colleague Fiddleford and having Bill as his friend and muse are all the connections that he needs. 

He realizes he’s happy. 

-000-

One day, he’s in the Mindscape while Bill is using his body. It’s their usual arrangement and Ford enjoys spending time in the Mindscape. Being there makes the information and research they do infinitely easier to recall and work on. The only downfall is that they are in his mind. Along with information, there are the occasional memories that pop up at random. 

He’s working on the calculations for the portal, the Mindscape providing all the resources for the calculations. His mind would wander for a moment off his work and when he uses one of the floating reference books, and opening it would reveal a picture of him and Stanley when they were younger. 

He slams the book shut. Stanford takes a moment to compose himself, then reopens the book. The calculations he needs are there and no indication that a picture that haunted him to this day ever sat there. He wants to believe that the incident is a coincidence, but his has happened far too many times in the past. 

Calm down, Ford thinks. This is his mind and there is nothing that he can’t control in here. 

He rubs a hand over his face. Maybe he’s just tired. After all, Bill has probably been using his body for a long time. Maybe it’s about time to switch out. 

“Hey, IQ!”

Ford almost jumps. 

“Hahaha, sorry about that,” Bill says, coming into view, looking over Ford’s calculations. “Didn’t mean to startle you, I just thought it’s good timing to switch back. Your body needs ‘sleep’ “ Bill made air quotations, which meant that Ford really needed to sleep, “and your bespectacled friend was getting suspicious.”

“Ah,” Ford glances at the calculations in the air, “Fiddleford was? Then perhaps it would be a good time to switch out.”

Bill gave Ford a comforting squeeze on the shoulder. 

“Don't sweat it. So we haven’t conquered time yet, that’ll be in the future soon,” he says, with a wave of his hand. 

Ford broke out into a chuckle. 

Bill turned and gave a quick close of the eye, before pointing at it, “That was a wink by the way.”

“Yeah, I got that, Bill.” Ford says fondly. 

“But in all seriousness, you doing okay? You typically don’t spook so easily. Seeing ghosts around here?” Bill says in mock seriousness, giving the Mindscape a look around. 

Ford flashes back to the picture. Ghosts, indeed. 

“Still discovering new things about the Mindscape, that’s all,” he says instead. He decides not to look at Bill and instead starts to float away from his work. It’s not actually necessary to go through the door to leave the Mindscape, but it’s the way Ford has conceptualized leaving. 

“One sec, Brainiac,” Bill snaps his fingers and Ford falls into a comfortable chair. Bill pushes the work away to the side and creates his own seat. The muse steeples it’s fingers. “Hear me out.”

Ford nods, curious. 

“I don’t think you realize this, but you’re important to me, Stanford,” Bill admits. “You and I? We’ve been connected from the very moment that you knew that you were different.”

Ford almost flinched, but did glance down at his hands. 

“I meant that in a good way.” Ford is actually glad for Bill’s flippant and casual air on the matter. “You know, our meeting was a part of destiny, it was written in the stars.” Bill says, gesturing towards the Mindscape. 

Ford actually considers Bills words seriously. After all, it’s not everyone who gets a muse to help them with their world changing discovery. And Bill has proven to be a very helpful and loyal companion. He chooses his words very carefully. 

“Thank you,” Ford says warmly, offering his hand for Bill to shake. 

Maybe he’s more sentimental because he’s recently been reminded of- the past, but the words seem right. He’s so thankful for Bill, but he can’t offer more. He just hopes he can convey his feelings through these words. 

It.. seemed to work in the past. 

Bill’s eyebrow curves up, but he immediately lights his hand that beautiful blue and shakes Ford’s hand with a squeeze. 

“No, thank _you_.”

With that, Ford exits the Mindscape rather refreshed. That is, until the bone deep exhaustion starts to hit him. Bill wasn’t kidding about him needing sleep. 

Fiddleford tries to speak with him, but Ford is too tired to listen. He brushes Fiddleford off, telling him that whatever concerns he has can wait until after Ford gets some sleep. After seeing how tired the man is, the engineer reluctantly nods and tells him that they need to have this conversation before they test the portal. 

Stanford nods and waves him away before going and collapsing into bed. 

He sleeps for almost a day and by the time they have the conversation, they’ve already started the process of turning on and testing the portal. They don’t actually get the heart of the matter before they're ready to throw the dummy in the portal. 

Fiddleford tries to bring up Stanford’s odd behavior, but the roar of the activating portal stops him. 

Then Fiddleford almost gets sucked in and reveals that his life’s work is a sham. 

Ford’s world starts falling apart around his ears:

Fiddleford leaves him. 

Bill has betrayed him; was never a muse, and Ford was never the chosen, brilliant mind. Perhaps worst of all, is the fact that they were never partners. 

He has been used. 

This fact (because it was fact, he had to accept it as fact), Stanford acknowledges after some time and swallows the bitter pill of how he was wrong (very wrong). How he was arrogant and easily deceived. He will never willingly step into the Mindscape ever again. 

With this in mind, Ford starts working on a plan to stop Bill’s plan. 

Unfortunately, Bill has an open invitation to his body. At times his mental shields hold, but not all the time. After all, the shield were taught to him by Bill against ‘lesser’ telepathic beings. He would have practiced more if he knew this was going to happen. He just never thought he would have to use the shields to stop Bill from coming into his mind, he thinks bitterly. 

Luckily, his techniques and spells prevent Bill from rummaging freely in his mind. Combined with Fiddleford’s and his shorthand notes, Ford can rest easy that the demon won’t be able to get the portal started himself. However, this isn’t enough for Ford. He needs to make sure that Bill is incapable of wreaking havoc in his body, so he decides on using the brute force method of forcing Bill out; keeping his body from functioning properly. 

Stanford stops sleeping, he stops eating, he only drinks water, and let’s the lack of sleep and food ravage his body. He’s tired and sluggish all the time, but his mind is still razor sharp out of spite. 

When Bill manages to take control of his body the first few times, the demon is at a loss at the sensations. In these moments, his body typically knocks itself out because Bill doesn’t have the willpower Ford does.

Maybe he isn’t as smart as he thought, but he sure as hell is tough. 

Eventually, Bill takes the hint and stops trying to take over his body at inopportune times in order to complete the portal. 

Instead, Bill comes and purposefully takes over so that Ford will fall asleep. 

While Ford doesn’t willingly enter the Mindscape and refuses to listen to Bill while he’s taking over his body, he can't escape Bill in his dreams. They are the in-between, and in some ways, where Bill holds the most power. The dreams aren’t too insidious, just Bill trying to manipulate him into starting the portal again. After the first few times of Bill purposefully dropping him into dreams, Ford starts using another method to prevent Bill from taking over. 

Ford stops bathing. He barely shaves. He doesn’t allow himself to relieve himself until he’s full to burst. He allows the cold to seep into the house and allows the heat warm the house into a furnace. He works in total darkness or blindfolds himself. This time when Bill takes over his body, Bill is assaulted by different sensations and it doesn’t take much for Stanford to wrestle control back. 

After the first time Bill shits himself, Bill retreats back, unable to take the disgusting aspects of human functions. Even when he’s cleaning up and changing, Ford takes a vicious satisfaction of being able to outsmart the demon. He’s a brilliant human no matter what anyone says and he will do whatever it takes to keep Bill from the rest of the world. 

That day, Ford decides to reward himself by eating something more substantial, a can of brown meat and he takes a certain satisfaction to how the way the strangely textured protein sticks between his teeth. 

He falls asleep outside against the radio tower, where the cold metal bites into his back, there’s a chilly breeze, and the prickly grass under his ass. The sensations are physically uncomfortable, but mentally comforting. The last thing he sees is the constellation Orion overhead and he thinks, I too can be the hunter. 

Ford closes his eyes. 

“Funny thing about prey, they never realize they’re about to die until it's too late!”

Ford jerks back, but is met with no resistance and floats off. He's dreaming and Bill is in front of him, fire ringed around his body and eye glowing black and red.

Then Bill turns back to his usual self. “Aww I'm just messing with you,” he says, lounging in the air in front of Ford. “Really there's no escaping fate now. You've already done too much and gone too far.”

“That's not true Bill! I'll stop you! I'll take the portal down!” Ford screams, anger rising within him. It isn’t all for nothing. He isn’t too late. He can do this. 

Bill is suddenly in his face, eye almost touching him. Ford barely stops himself from jerking back at the sudden closeness.

“But can you, Ford?” Bill's voice grew progressively slower and deeper. “Will your human pride allow it? After all this is your research, your entire life’s work. This is what separates you from the geniuses and the freaks.” 

Ford can barely look at Bill, can barely stop himself from trembling as the demon’s eye starts playing out moments in his life, moments that Ford had told Bill about. Some of them have to do about his hands, but most revolve around Stan. 

Ford closes his eyes, angry at the fact that he was weak, angry that he had confided in Bill, and angry that Bill is right. He doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to take the portal down. 

“Aww, don't be like that Stanford Pines,” Bill says, finally stopping the playback. “This was always meant to be, I mean sure, I didn't expect this delay-”

Ford latched onto that like a man possessed, “So I am delaying you!” His heart soared, so it wasn't all for nothing. He could- he could do this. He could beat Bill. Ford can beat Bill. 

“I said delay, Genius, not stop. Sheesh, don't get your undies in a twist.” Bill waved his hand lazily. “But that doesn't mean I'm not angry. You’ve already taken care of physical torture for me, so right now I'm just going to take my time to torment your mind and push you to the very edge of insanity. You're not too far off anyways.”

“So, enjoy the ride down, Sixer.”

Bill snaps his fingers and disappears. Ford feels a distinct swooping sensation in his chest and knows that he’s suspended in midair. Then he’s falling. 

He grinds his teeth to stop himself from screaming, but it’s a near thing. All he can do is brace himself and hope that he can survive the hell Bill conjures up until he wakes up.

No, he will survive this, beat the shit out of the triangle, stop his plans, and save the world. 

However, instead of landing, Ford jolts into place. He’s suddenly standing and the change gives him vertigo. He immediately swings his arms for balance until a firm hand catches him at the elbow. 

“Hey, Sixer, I know she just rejected you, but no need for dramatics.”

 _Oh god_.

Ford mouths dries and opens as he sees Stanley, pimply and young, smiling at him, and wearing a salmon pink suit that has punch all over it. Ford looks around and sees that he’s back at _**the**_ high school dance. 

Ford knows this is a dream, he knows, but he can’t help the butterflies in his stomach when he sees Stan’s smile. 

His brother wipes away the punch around his eyes before continuing to talk, “Come on,” he gestures with a grin. 

Ford knows where this is heading. Stan will offer to watch the door while he washes off, then he’ll have a meltdown in which Stan will come in to comfort him, and then…

“I can’t,” Ford breathes out. He scrunches his face at his younger and more high pitched voice. 

Stan tilts his head in confusion. “You don’t want to dance?” He asks.

“Da-dance?” Ford squeaks.

“Ya, I mean I get it, you wouldn’t mind leading for once, but come on. Have I ever lead you wrong?” 

Ford has to swallow. Stan has, he has that- that look about him. The one where his lips are twisted upwards in a arrogant and cocksure smile, but where his eyes are crinkled at the edges and he's looking at Ford like Ford’s the best thing in the whole damn world. 

“I’m going to, um- get some punch- water, fist,” Ford fumbles out, then all but runs to the refreshments table. It’s been so long since he’s seen that expression, since he’s even let himself think about Stan like this. 

“Don’t get anymore on yourself,” his brother calls out playfully. 

Ford bobs his head, but doesn’t dare look back. Instead he takes the time to get his bearings, remembering that even though it looks like he’s in his old high school (and every detail is in place, from the rusty old ceiling struts, to the disapproving chaperones), he’s actually dreaming with Bill behind the curtains. 

Whatever this is, Ford can get through it. He isn’t sure what Bill’s endgame is by showing him this, but for now he’ll have to play along. Whatever twist that comes with this story line, whatever hellish torture that comes out of this, Ford can take it. 

He finally makes his way to the punch table, but he’s sick at the sight of it and doesn’t want to give anyone any more ammunition against him. 

When he finally turns back, his heart stutters. 

In front of him is Stan without his jacket, still looking ridiculous with punch staining a good portion of his clothes, but dancing beautifully with Carla McCorkle. The two of them dancing together looks as easy as breathing and everyone who watches them can see it too. No one can argue that they aren’t dancing appropriately, but there’s something special and intimate about the way they move together. 

Ford wonders what’s happening. He has never seen the two dance together in real life even though Stan has said that they did. This is a radical change from the past. He’s at a bit of a loss on what to do. 

Things are already different and he’s not even the one changing them. Events are just happening before his eyes without his input. Ford knows that he won’t give into Bill’s machinations, but at this point he can’t even decide what’s his next move.

That decision is taken out of his hands when Carla sees him and, wow, gives him the most breathtaking of smiles. Carla has never looked at him, never mind like that. She’s looking at him like he’s something special. 

“Come on, Stanford. Let’s show your brother how it’s really done,” she says with a smooth wink. 

Stan sputters, but is smiling. Ford actually starts to babble an excuse, but Carla is having none of that and pulls him onto the dance floor without resistance.

Stan gracefully steps away while Carla pulls him into a dance. She’s a vision in her lovely flower printed dress and her funky moves, and Ford isn’t even dancing so much as trying not to fall down. It’s like he’s back in his young body again, extremely awkward and where nothing works. His dance partner doesn’t seem to care. She goes along with the fumblings and laughs. 

But she’s not laughing at him. Carla’s eyes are warm and she gives him another wink as if they are sharing an old joke together. 

Surprisingly, some people whistle and catcall them, but with none of the spite or animosity that Ford expects from them. For the people of Jersey, it’s practically like applause. He can’t help it, he smiles and relaxes even with all the attention. 

“Carla, you can’t hog my brother to yourself. You gotta share, ya know,” Stan interjects, just as Ford is starting to dance instead of flail awkwardly.

Carla shoots his twin what is clearly a come-hither look and Stan returns it with a smirk. “Then why don’t you join us tough guy, there’s enough for everyone,” she says playfully. 

Stan squeezes in easily and they start dancing in a circle, not quite together and not quite apart. Although Stan and Carla are clearly better dancers, Ford doesn’t feel excluded. The warm mood is infectious and Ford quickly starts to enjoy himself. It’s fun being with the two of them and not attracting attention. 

They continue to dance, the three of them, until the songs start to wind down. 

“I’ll go freshen up, boys,” Carla says. She moves to Stan, kissing his cheek. Then she moves to him, coming close and whispering, “Don’t look now, but Ashley looks mighty put out.”

Stan snorts, “Serves her right, for the punch.”

Carla gives him a quick kiss on the cheek, “Probably jealous that Ford’s dancing with the best looking people in the whole gym,” she says with a bright smile. Then she disappears into the crowd.

“Hey, Ford?”

Ford blinks and turns to Stan who has that expression on his face again. 

“May I have this dance?” Stan says, holding his hand out to Ford. 

Maybe it’s because this is a dream (even if it is one controlled by Bill), that Ford automatically takes his hand. 

Stan pulls him close and they start slowly swaying to the music. Ford glances around nervously, but no one seems to care nor are they even looking at them. 

He’s close to a melt down anyway, when Stan pulls his attention away by placing a gentle hand on his cheek. Ford doesn’t pull away as Stan leans closer. In fact, he leans in and meets Stan halfway.

Ford almost collapses into the kiss. 

The dream has been surreal for Ford, everything changed and unusual and he’s been able to handle most of it. 

But this kiss. 

This kiss feels exactly like the one him and Stan had shared all those years ago.

And by god, Ford doesn’t want to stop. 

Eventually, they do pull away. Ford’s eyes flutter open and he’s greeted by the sight of Stan with his eyes still closed, smiling, looking as if he is savoring the kiss. When his twin finally opens his eyes, his expression is so open and full of love that Stanford almost looks away. 

Thankfully, Stan tugs him into an embrace and nuzzles his cheek. 

Ford just closes his eyes and enjoys the moment. 

“ _Thank you_ ,” Stan says softly into his ear. 

This is the moment that breaks him. 

-000-

Ford claws his way into consciousness and forces his eyes open. He feels a stabbing pain, a few wolves have come to see if they can drag him away, and Ford snarls so ferociously that they flinch back and scamper back into the forest. 

He’s gulping in huge breaths of air even though his lungs already feel like they're about to burst. He’s running his hands over his face trying to calm himself down, but all this does is tell him he’s shaking horribly and barely has any control of his body. 

He takes in the sight of his body and notices that he’s bleeding. Good, he thinks and starts hitting his wounds. That manages to do something and he concentrates on the sharp aches and pain, until he can think of nothing else. 

Once he is able to get on his feet, Ford runs back into the cabin and searches his journals for something that can block Bill out. He can’t afford to let him control his dreams anymore, because this one dream has already been too much to handle. 

Ford has fallen off the cliff of sanity, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him from doing his duty. 

He manages to find a possible solution. According to lore, iron is good way to bind fae and magical creatures. If Bill has the same type of weirdness as these creatures, the concept should work the same. Unfortunately, with no corporeal form, there is no way to bind Bill. 

Ford would just have to do the next best thing. 

Despite the fact that Ford is in no ways a medical doctor, with the help of things in Gravity Falls and his own determination, Ford manages to insert the metal plate into his head without killing himself. 

It seems to work, and Bill no longer takes over his body at all. However the dreams and whispers don't stop. Ford is so sure that some of it is Bill, that even though he has the plate, Bill might have enough strength to talk to him through his shields. 

There are moments when he’s bone tired, just on the edge of sleep, that he hears Bill the most. Soft whispers telling Ford that he’s being watched, that he can’t trust anyone, and that he should watch himself. The demon feeds his paranoia and fears, while the exhaustion wears down his logical mind. 

Sometimes, Bill throws away all subtlety to scream into his mind, fill his mind with images of violence, and his mad cackling laugh. Those make him shudder, but even more determined to go on. The worst of it comes when Bill goes back to being his friend (no friend, never friend), telling him soft endearments to take care of himself and his brain, that they will ‘open the world to new things,’ and flatters him and his ego. 

Those words make Ford’s stomach roil, wondering how he was so easily taken in by the demon before. 

The dreams are the worst. The metal plate blocks out most of Bill's influence. Ford never sees the demon, but he's not sure if the lingering presence is because of the demon or his own madness. 

He dreams of old memories and soft kisses with Stan. He dreams about going to the beach and holding his twin's hand out in the open. He dreams about going to West Coast Tech, the fight never happening, and Stan at his side. 

He imagines their life together, how things could have been, coffee shops and classes, and hanging out with their mutual friends who are okay with the lingering touches and the looks that the twins give one another. 

Ford is glad that he doesn't meet Bill. Because that way he can blame the demon for the dreams instead of his own twisted psyche. 

Time passes and Stanford manages to prep the bunker, hide most of the journals, and prepare a contingency plan for Bill coming back. 

However, he can't bring himself to destroy the portal. Not yet.

Ford saves the task for last, after he gives the last journal to the only person he can trust at the moment. 

He mails Stan a letter. 

Bill ups his game and takes every chance he can take to heckle the scientist. With Bill and the dreams, Ford is exhausted by the time Stan knocks on the door. 

It's actually a relief when Ford's threat is met with Stan's rudeness and sass. And while he doesn't like the combination of Stan's dirty clothes, tired face, and mullet, they reassure him that this is the real Stan. 

This is someone who is untouched by Bill and his dreams. 

This creates a war in Stanford’s mind. 

Stan shouldn’t stay here, not when Bill is lurking around every corner and shadow. Not when Ford is so dangerous, obviously insane, and days away from snapping. 

On the other hand, his brother can help. Having someone he can trust would be a godsend, not to mention the perfect person to help him take down the portal. 

But then there’s the part of Ford’s mind that just wants to melt into Stan and never let him go. Run his hands over his brother's body and relearn the changes. Wants to bring him closer for a passionate kiss. And after that's done, Ford can share his world with him. 

The desire eats at him like a restless animal, and so Ford pushes him away. Screams and rants and spits poison so that he can drive his brother away. 

And when their subsequent fight results in Ford falling through the multiverse, well, Ford accepts his fate. He is almost relieved to leave Gravity Falls, Bill, Stan, and all the memories behind. 

-000-

“Thank you,” Ford gasps out, as he grasps the water bottle hanging from their hand. 

The first dimension he lands in is mostly desolate wasteland and it almost drives him mad (or well, more mad) that for all his smarts, nothing can save him from nature. 

Luckily, from what Ford has been able to mime and guess, the planet’s residents have a low reproduction rate meaning no one is killed off right away. If you can work in the mines, then you can survive. 

So he gives his sincere thanks to the resident that have saved him. 

(It helps that they can’t understand his words, can only get impressions through his tone. Saying the words causes him some distress, the memories from the past threatening to choke him, but it doesn’t matter here. He’s on a planet where he works hard enough not to dream, not to think, and where the residents don’t understand the words.)

> __
> 
> Fool me once-
> 
> __

_  
_

“Thank you,” he says, teeth clenched and lips twisted in a semblance of a smile. 

The ambassador waves their hand with an arrogant and indulgent expression. 

This dimension has universal translators, futuristic science facilities, and beautiful planets. However, this universe also has the same backwater ideas of privilege and arrogance as Earth does. It’s only because of the ambassador’s special interest in him that he can use the science facilities. 

Ford’s lucky really, on this planet where science is such a big part of lives, he manages to not become a science experiment. He is saved by the ambassador for being recognized as a human. Apparently, only the most ‘spectacular’ of humans are able to hop dimensions. 

So Ford grits his teeth and puts up with the ambassador’s whims.

In exchange for using the facilities, Ford is often paraded around by the ambassador. The man likes to say that Ford is his ‘guest,’ but Ford knows that the ambassador actually means ‘pet.’ 

> __
> 
> -Shame on you.
> 
> __

_  
_

“Thank you,” Ford mumbles into the dirt, thanking whatever deities helped him escape. 

This isn’t the first daring escape that Ford has pulled, but it was one of the more dangerous ones. 

Something makes a suspicious slurping sound near his feet. He sits up and shoos away a slime creature the size of a cat. It makes a burbling sound at him and wiggles away. 

He takes a good luck at his surroundings. He’s in a sparse forest that would have reminded him of some of Earth’s trees, if it wasn’t for the oddly shaped and colored foliage. 

Seeing no danger, Ford takes inventory. It feels like his supplies haven’t fallen out of his pockets, but he’ll have to do a closer inspection at a later time. 

Ford stands and immediately groans. Thankfully the wound on his back hasn’t reopened, but the pain from it reminds him that he can't take much more dimension jumping. He’s not as young as he used to be, and the activity is wreaking havoc on his back and knees. He’ll probably feel better after a good night's sleep and a nutrient fortified meal, but the traveling is taking a toll on him. 

Especially with his preferred way of traveling the multiverse. Ford’s learned long ago that the easiest way for people to track him is to use the same portal technology over and over. If he can help it, Ford will use another dimensions technology jump, and steal the current dimensions tech for a future jump. 

The system has worked for him so far, but he’s getting tired of it all. Ford has lost most of his hope for… well, at this point he’s just doing this out of habit. 

> __
> 
> Fool me twice-
> 
> __

_  
_

“Thank you,” Ford says dryly. 

“Uh, you’re not welcome,” Rick says, but takes the payment and hands Ford the parts he wants. 

“Go suck an egg, Sanchez,” Ford says in returns and before the man can answer, Ford gracefully jumps away from the man’s ship and out of sight. It’s petty, but it’s also hilarious. 

“Hey-HEY! Who in the- who the hell says that anymore!” Ford can hear Rick ranting even as he leaves the vicinity. “WELL YOU CAN LICK MY BALLS, PINES!”

Ford snickers, but hopes he hasn’t pissed Rick off too badly. The man may be an ass, but at least this Rick is open to trade. Rick Sanchez is one of the most infuriating beings that Ford has ever met. He finally understands the apprehension that other species have about humans if Rick is the only one they’ve encountered. 

However, Rick is also one of the most useful beings in the multiverse.

It’s through him that Ford gets parts, gossip, and neat knick knacks. Ford learns about the Galactic Federation and about the politics and opinions of dimension hopping. Most importantly, Ford learns firsthand about the alternate versions of people. The first few times he meets Rick and Rick doesn’t remember him is rather off putting until this fact comes into play. After a while, most Rick’s come to know him and he thinks that he gets to know one Rick in particular. (Ford thinks that the League of Rick's probably gossip about him.)

As a result, Ford has always avoided Earth. 

One time he actually caught sight of himself at a shady bar in a dangerous solar system. The sight is surprising. The man is obviously him, but.. different. Ford can clearly recognize where the man has and hasn’t been just by looking at his equipment. 

However, what really surprises him is the man standing next to him. Clearly his other self has a partner or friend and when the other man turns around Ford almost cries. 

But he doesn’t. Instead he turns around and leaves the bar. 

> __
> 
> -Shame on **me**. 
> 
> __

_  
_

Everything gets easier with time. 

Ford has been alone for a huge portion of his life, so this on-the-run lifestyle isn’t too hard on him. Actually, it’s all very exciting. Traveling to places that he’s never known, studying subjects that can’t be found on Earth, and still being one of them smartest people in the multiverse is great, perfect even. 

The memories grow easier with time. Time makes the memories softer, less harsh. The madness that he has retreats to the edges of his mind. Ford knows that he will never lose it, but at least it doesn't control him anymore. He will always hold a grudge for Bill Cipher deep in his heart (and that's putting it mildly), but his life now means that he will most likely never meet Bill ever again. 

He’s happy. 

Which doesn’t explain why when he sees a circular portal open up for him he doesn’t hesitate, not for a second, and goes through. 

-000-

When Ford walks through, all he can see is his brother. His twin is older, but the face, the eyes, the smile, the voice... Ford recognizes him the instant he sees him. The man has aged well and looks good in a suit, but maybe Ford’s biased. 

And his brother’s eyes look so bright and his grin is stunning and he has arms outstretched, just waiting for Ford to hug him...

Ford punches him in the face. 

Stan curses and swings back, looking angry and defiant. 

Which fills Ford with relief. This isn't a dream. 

He hasn't, he doesn't dream well anymore and has taken measures to stop dreaming, because they're still filled with the twisted dreams from before. He can never escape those dreams. 

He's also disappointed. Maybe he should have found out whether or not Stan is real or not another way. But what’s done is done, and Ford feels better about navigating what he knows is reality. 

Even if it does involve unexpected niblings and an odd young man that seems to be part of the Pines family. 

-000-

After everything settles, he and Stan have a moment to themselves. 

Looking at him, trying to be casual and joke with him is a trying experience. 

Ford isn’t… 

He's not whole anymore. And it does scare him to be around so many people that don’t actually know him, and don’t know what he’s capable of. What he’s done…

And then Ford gets angry. Angry at what he’s had to live through, angry that he’s been ripped from place to place with no home, and what does Ford come back to? Stan with what could only be described as a perfect family. 

They need to leave and Ford tells Stan this.

“You really aren’t going to thank me, are you?” Stan says in response to whatever the hell Ford just said to get everyone away from him.

Ford can only stare. 

The next part of the conversation can only be described as a controlled explosion. Stan and him are clearly trying to keep things contained for the kids, but Ford knows that if they were alone, and younger, that they would start physically fighting in a heartbeat. 

But they don’t. They’re different, older now. So instead of throwing punches, they leave each other in a huff. 

Stan goes somewhere into the cabin and Ford let’s his feet carry himself outside. The place is a wreck. It also looks very different, thirty years has changed things, from the hokey displays that Stan has put up for business, to the actual landscape of the area. It reminds Ford that it has really been thirty long years since he’s been back in this dimension. 

Thankfully the integrity of the house doesn't look damaged and Ford just lays down on the couch on the porch and thinks about falling asleep. 

His brain is in too much turmoil to actually sleep. 

Maybe it's just him that's changed. 

Stan feels the same. It's easy to reconcile this Stan and even the Stan he met briefly before his exile, with the young man he once knew: emotional, and easily ruled by his heart. Whatever hardships his brother has been through hasn't changed that. 

Ford knows he's different. He's smarter, wiser, different and maybe not in a good way. 

(Even now, he's worried. Although he's happy to be back, to be able to research Earth again, he can feel the lingering tendrils of Bills madness coming to life. He can push it back, he's strong, but that doesn't mean he's not scared of the fact that they're still there in the back of his mind.)

This is reason enough to push everyone away. Better him and his issues stay locked in Gravity Falls.

Ford doesn't fall asleep. Instead he repeats these thoughts over and over until the sun starts to rise. 

It's beautiful.

He's seen the loveliest landscapes in the multiverse, but nothing compares to a sunset in his home of Gravity Falls. 

Tears start to fall down his cheeks, but Ford makes no motion to sweep them away. 

Ford already know he's broken, so what's the point? The only thing he can do now is keep himself together. 

If he can't, he doesn't know what will become of him. 

-000-

Time used to be irrelevant to him. When he was jumping to different multiverse, it wasn't important to keep track of the time or the days, only his accomplishments.

It feels like a routine to try and go back to Earth time, but it becomes easier. He enjoys having a fresh and hot meal at the right times, enjoys hearing the birds as he's waking up (or when he's supposed to wake up), and enjoys having regular bowel movements on an actual Earth toilet (he's had better, but at the same time there's nothing like home). 

And he likes regular human interaction. 

Soos is strange, but the young man is always ready to offer a smile and a nod. The boy is one of those rare beings who is completely transparent about his intentions, and his intentions are always good. 

Wendy is a bit aloof, but she’s also a teenager so he can’t expect anything more. In a way, it’s a relief to see her and see how predictable she is because of her age. He’s glad that some things never change. 

It's nice to have a cute niece offer him hot meals and refreshments (no matter how glittery) and laugh in his vicinity. Mabel is lovely and reminds Ford of how wonderful and flawed humans beings are. 

As for Stan...

Although he and Stan don’t interact anymore, his presence is still very welcoming. Although so much has changed, Stan hasn’t. His brother still grunts in the morning and scratches himself in public. (Ford tries to tell his brain to stop finding these traits endearing, but his mind never listens.)

Possibly the most pleasant surprise is Dipper. The boy is so much like him, it’s almost like looking into the past. And it has been a long time since he’s had a friend. Hell, it’s been a long time since he’s had a long time connection of any sort (Rick doesn’t count, and he’s trying not to think about Stan). 

If it wasn’t for Bill hanging over their heads, Ford would truly enjoy his life now. 

He might have even invited the rest of the family to stay.

But he can’t. Too much damage has been done. Even to Dipper, the poor boy. Ford wishes that he can start teaching his nephew a way to deal with the pain. Unfortunately, that would have to wait until after they defeat Bill.

-000-

Ford doesn’t get the chance. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get the chance. 

As he’s being taken hostage by Bill and his cronies, Ford allows himself the indulgence of thinking of all the things he’s done wrong. All the regrets he has. After all, Bill’s probably just going to kill him.

Ford wishes.. that he spent more time with his family. 

All this time he’s been thinking of them as Stan’s family, only considering Dipper as someone he can relate too, but that shouldn’t have mattered. If he had opened up a little more, then they could have been his too. He’s lost that chance now.

But his biggest regret is Stan. 

Ford finally lets himself admit something he’s always kept locked away:

 _Stan is mine_ , Ford thinks. _Stan has always been mine_. 

Not even Bill could change that fact. His heart actually grows lighter at the admission. Even when he thinks about how they should have- he should have- all he did was say thank you.

He should have said more. 

Bill is laughing and Ford can see him about to snap his fingers. 

He braces himself. 

Then there is nothing.

-000-

When Ford can finally feel again, his brain is scrambled and can barely comprehend the signals his body is giving him. After a moment Ford can finally register that he is laying on the ground; heavy, sore, and tired. Then he can finally feel the dirt under his body, the grit in his eyes, and the unbelievable dryness of his mouth. 

How is he not dead?

A hand starts to shake him, but his body can’t respond. 

The hand is gentle at first, but gets rougher the longer he’s unresponsive. There are several of them now, shaking him, trying to get a response. All he can do is groan and hope that is enough. 

Someone gasps. 

They wrestle his body into sitting up. There is a reassuring weight at his back and small hands are now fluttering over him, smoothing over his clothes, running through his hair, and rubbing his cheeks. 

The hands are warm and reassuring. He feels safe. Ford fights to move, struggles with all his might, but can't move, can’t reassure those who are looking after him. So he stops and listens. There are voices in his ear:

“Great Uncle Ford? Grunkle Ford! Please wake up!”

“Dipper, Grunkle Stan, what do we do?”

“Everything. Doesn’t matter if you have to slap him, we gotta get a response out of him.”

Ford recognizes the voices. Reinvigorated, he tries again to pull himself from the darkness he’s submerged in. 

SMACK!

“Mabel!”

The pain from the slap is sharp, much different from the dull ache of the rest of his body and he can actually feel himself starting to respond. 

“Come on, Ford, you don’t want to make Dipper try to slap you now, right?”

And with that last tug, Ford can feel his eyes flutter open. 

The world is alight with fire, his niblings are covered in ash, and the sky is red. 

“Wha…” Ford starts to say, but can’t complete his sentence. His mouth is too dry. 

“Don’t talk, Ford, I got ya,” Stan says from behind him. Ford turns his head and sees his twin, who is the one propping him up. The kids in front of him pull his attention back. 

Mabel rubs her eyes, then launches herself at his chest. “Grunkle Ford! We were so worried,” she cries. 

Ford’s eyes widen, but his mouth stretches into a smile. It feels good to be wanted. He manages to wrap an arm around her, trying to convey his gratitude. 

Dipper shuffles closer and Ford opens his other arm so his nephew can come closer. “We did it, Great Uncle Ford. All thanks to your journals. We got Bill,” Dipper says with a small smile. 

“That’s-” he tries to say, before he starts coughing. His family (god, his family) looks worryingly at him. “I’m so glad you guys are okay,” he says sincerely. 

“We’re glad you’re okay, too,” Stan murmurs. Then maneuvers so he can actually look at Ford. Stan’s eyes are suspiciously wet. “Hey Sixer? I’m glad, that you managed to come back to us.” 

Ford smiles. It’s all but a confession for Stan. Maybe things can be fixed. 

Then Stan leans in and kisses him, firm but gentle. 

Mabel giggles and Dipper sighs. 

When Stan pulls away he looks straight at Ford and says, “ _Thank you_.”

Ford pales at the words. _Dear god, not again_. 

-000-

Ford almost sobs with relief when he’s released from the dream. 

That world was so beautiful and so wonderful. He dreamed of watching Dipper and Mabel grow, getting to know Wendy and Soos, reconciling with Fiddleford, and having a whole network of support he’s never known. He dreamed of learning more about Gravity Falls, simply exploring the anomalies and the science and the weirdness of it all. 

And he did all of it with Stanley by his side. 

After he fell through the portal, Ford thought his heart was broken, but he was wrong. There’s a void there, and nothing will ever be able to fill it. The void will continue to take whatever the hell it wants, whenever it wants, and _**he will never be able to recover his heart**_. 

While there can be happiness, care, and love in him, they may disappear in a moment’s notice, and all he will be left with is the anger, the hate, and the selfishness to finally kill Bill once and for all. 

-000-

He never gets the chance. 

Not that Ford didn’t have a hand in defeating Bill, but it’s not the same as ripping out Bill’s one eye with his bare (six-fingered) hands. But maybe that’s a positive thing, not having the chance to act on his anger, and his hate, and his rage-

Well, he should just be satisfied with the fact that Bill Cipher is defeated, once and for all. 

(This conclusion is a relief. Even if Ford is broken, twisted, and empty, at least those are by his own hands. If Ford had killed Bill with so much hate inside him, he wouldn’t have been able to let Bill go. He would have always held a piece of Bill fucking Cipher inside him. 

Now, he can finally put Bill behind him.)

Dipper and Mabel are safe and are currently being lauded as the town's heroes, so Ford takes the chance to slip away, unnoticed. He knows it’s selfish of him, but he’s too old and worn down to care about being selfish. Being socially acceptable can wait until after he makes sure Stan is okay. 

Ford makes a beeline towards the trees. His guess, more like a feeling really, is correct and he spots signs of a human passing through. Ford spots his brother’s fez behind some shrubbery and hurries to him. 

Ford spots Stan bent over, leaning against a tree, clutching his side. Not even a moment later, his brother collapses to his knees with a groan. 

“Stan!” Ford cries out, and sprints over to his twin. 

Stan finally notices him. “Ford?” Stan says, voice thick and strained. “What are you-”

But before Stan can finish, Ford flips him onto his back, laying him down carefully. Stan yelps in surprise, but also in pain. Ford winces, but starts taking tools out of jacket. 

“Whatever it is, I will fix it, Stan,” Ford says. He doesn’t have much, but he can improvise. Maybe he should call out to the kids to have them help? No, whatever is ailing Stan must be bad enough if he slunk away from them. 

“Ford-”

“Don’t worry, Stan.” 

“Ford-”

“Just stay with me.”

Ford starts brainstorming all the ways he can do an impromptu surgery in the forest. It’s not the ideal environment, but he’s done surgery before, alone on his own cranium, so it shouldn’t be a problem right? Ford is so focused, that he doesn’t hear Stan’s long suffering sigh. 

However, he does notice the object that smacks him across the temple.

Ford catches the remains of the projectile. “Did you- did you just throw a pine cone at me?” Ford says, incredulous. 

Stan sighs again and lobs another at him. Ford catches this one and scowls. 

“Ford, I’m not hurt,” Stan says, seeing that he finally has his brother’s attention. 

“What?”

Stan just opens up his arms and hands. There’s no wound and no blood to be seen. Ford starts to run his hands over Stan, over his chest, over his abdomen, over the side where he saw Stan clutching, but there’s nothing out of place. He scowls.

“Explain,” Ford demands. 

Stan rolls his eyes. “I have a bad back, Ford. I’m old and it’s embarrassing. That’s why I left.”

“Oh.” Because what else can he say. Then his mind goes back to the scene where he found his brother and narrows his eyes. “How bad is your back?”

“Good enough that I can have this conversation standing up. Come on, leave me with some dignity, Ford,” Stan says before starting to get up. 

He knows how stubborn his brother is and all he can do is help him up. He pulls one of his brother’s arms over his shoulders, but Stan seems to stumble, his arms catching on both sides of Ford’s shoulders. Ford tries to steady his brother, but finds himself falling into Stan instead of the other way around. 

Ford blinks. 

Stan is holding him close, face buried into his shoulder. And alarmingly, he’s trembling. 

Ford takes a shuddering breath and realizes that he’s shaking too. 

He slowly returns the hug and allows himself the weakness of holding his twin. 

No, not a weakness. A need, a desire, an honest want to hold him. 

They pull each other closer. 

Stan lets out a shuddery breath and Ford turns so he can smell his brothers hair. It smells like ozone, dirt, and sweat. It has a musky, spicy scent that fills his nose. The smell is unfamiliar. 

He would have to fix that. 

But for now…

“Stan?”

His brother looked up, eyes suspiciously wet.

Ford tilts his head and kisses Stan. 

He kisses him with the hunger and the selfishness that he never got to express in their younger days. Lets the love and happiness that he’s always hidden, shine through. He hopes that Stan can tell, that Stan can kiss him and just know what Ford is thinking, but he knows that it isn’t enough to just show him. 

When they finally pull away, Ford opens his mouth, to tell Stan all of this, but Stan beats him to the punch. 

“Thank you,” Stan says with a small smile. “It took you long enough.”

Ford is struck speechless. Which is of course when Stan starts to laugh at him. 

Ford manages to pull himself together and pulls his brother back into a hug. The action only causes Stan to smother his laughter in Ford’s chest. Ford can only smile and plant a kiss in this brother’s hair. 

After a while, Stan (finally) manages to calm down. Ford moves away and cups Stan’s cheek so that they are both staring into each other eyes. 

“I love you too,” Ford says. 

Stan blinks, but then grins widely. “Like that wasn’t obvious,” Stan retorts, the smug jerk. 

Ford huffs out a breath and Stan presses an apologetic kiss to his lips. 

“Let’s go find the rest of the family,” Stan says, nodding his head to the direction of the town. 

“The rest of the family,” Ford repeats happily. 

They straighten themselves out and walk out of the forest. Stan’s looking ahead, his mind clearly on the task in front of them, but Ford only has eyes for Stan. Sure the whole town is destroyed, the Mystery Shack is a wreck, and the kids are probably traumatized, but Ford has Stan back. 

And that’s all that matters.


End file.
